Wildling
by Skyrus Sunderling
Summary: What would happen if Harry had been taken from the Dursleys long before Petunia found him on the front stoop? What if Harry is no longer human, but a creature no one has ever seen before? What is Severus to do when he finds he has to teach Harry the fine art of Potions? PUT ON HOLD FOR REMODELING!
1. A Little Unexpected

This prologue is merely a test chapter. With it, I hope to figure out if I should advance in this idea, or avoid wasting my time through feedback from you. Yes, you, the reader. I am going to write this story anyway, but, dependent on the response I get from you, I will either post it and push on until the end, or let it stay tucked away in my files for personal enjoyment.

As for you, all I demand is that you take the time to read and possibly comment – my chapter post rate is higher when I know people actually want to read the next chapter and soon, otherwise; I will still post if this fic is getting a lot of traffic, just a little slower than if I have reviews. Flamers, be wary. More often than not, I care very little when negative comments drift my way, but I do respond to them IF they are constructive. Merely stating my story is shit and I should delete what I have done will get nothing out of me. However; should someone point something out, be it over looked errors, inconsistencies in the story line, or a major plot hole, I will edit things accordingly…or at least attempt to patch it so that the mistake isn't as glaringly obvious.

Enough of my rambling; read, enjoy, and give a little feed back if you wish.

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Prologue

The night was quiet - serene even - about Little Whinging, Surrey; every well-groomed, little house properly absent of light during the late hours of the evening. This was only natural in the muggle town as everyone strove to out do everyone else in terms of 'perfectly normal' and 'well-adjusted,' and for Number 4, Private Drive - home to a perfect little family known as the Dursleys - it seemed to take the cake as well as the rest of the party. Petunia was very particular about her gardens and the state of her home, always hustling bustling about to keep everything in and out of her home neat and tidy. Perfectly suitable for an at home wife in her opinion, though a doctor might have suggested that her constant activity and the stress from needing to impress others was why she was so thin. Her husband on the other hand, was opposite in appearance; dark hair to her blonde, no neck to her too much neck, ruddy skin to her gaunt, pale complexion, and very thick set to her very thin figure. However, Vernon seemed to think his overweight status was a sign of good living and that he was doing something right, so it was no surprise when the man's waist line expanded at regular intervals every year. Between the two of them, they had managed to spawn a much loved baby boy - who seemed to be a tad too pudgy even as a new born - exactly a year, three months and eight days before what should have been a monumental change in their lives.

On the night of Dudley's one year, three months and eighth day of life, a curious figure set to cast the first stone and manipulate the ripples of the future as he walked down the deserted street. The orderly lights of the drive went out with each step, casting the picture perfect drive in natural darkness. The man was certainly an odd one, old with a beard that nearly reached his knees and heavily laden with brightly colored robes and various other thick garments as well as an unusual hat. The man walked quietly, stopping just outside of the immaculate Number 4, Private Drive with a solemn expression set deep in his age wisened face. He was an old wizard, and a very important one, but none of that really mattered when he had to ponder his course of action. The Wizarding World had finally breached the darkness and terror one lone wizard had managed to weave through a horrifying war, but they had merely won a battle that left a very special child orphaned and very nearly alone in the world. Though the infant was barely over a year old, the whole of the Wizarding World knew him as Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived and the one who had killed the Dark Lord Voldemort. The hidden society of wizards, witches, and all manners of mythological creatures cheered and celebrated, but old Albus had the distinct feeling that things were not over yet and felt that Harry needed any kind of protection he could get.

Any smart wizard would have figured Albus was trying to block vengeful Death Eaters before they had even bothered to formulate a strike against the blissfully witless infant, but those close to the weary wizard knew that he was fearful of the return of Voldemort and doubted Harry could find the same protection a second time against the insane wizard. And so, Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore was attempting to craft a form of protection that dated back to the Founders and perhaps even further back into the Wizarding History than the great four. Blood wards were always powerful, but greatly fickle and ready to fail if the family using them were apart for too long. Yet Albus trusted the Dursleys to take Harry in and raise him safely along side their son. It wasn't long before he spotted a rather familiar tabby cat, the graceful creature strutting up to him before shifting into one Minerva McGonagall - a stern and fair woman who taught magic at Hogwarts. She was slightly haggard in appearance, her expression pinched in worry as she questioned Albus' decision to leave Harry with a group of muggles, blood connection or not.

The headmaster of Hogwarts merely placated the younger before turning his attentions to noisy rumbling in the distance. Rolling in on what could only be described as a _flying_ motorcycle, was giant of man with something very small cradled delicately in one sturdy arm. Hagrid was a kind soul and specialized in dealing with magical creatures, specifically in the rearing of infant creatures if they had been abandoned for some reason. It was no surprise that the man had taken a shine to the unfortunate child immediately and felt his own trepidation with leaving Harry with a completely muggle family. With a tearful goodbye and soft words from Albus and Minerva, the old wizard set the infant and an accompanying letter on the Dursley's stoop with great care before ushering the others away. Their little meeting and hushed arguments had eaten up much of the night, the muggles due to wake within a few hours. With a few temporary charms to keep Harry safe while he waited for discovery uttered, the headmaster returned the lights to the street and disappeared with a sharp POP.

It wasn't long before Harry woke, his startling green eyes drifting about the unfamiliar setting. His young mind could hardly understand all that had happened in one short year. All feelings of warmth, love, and safety had dwindled slowly until he was surrounded by the suffocating cloud of worry and fear from the adults. Then the fear had spiked into a kind of terror that made Harry cry nervously and cling to his mother as shouts rang through air. A scream, high and anguished, sounded and then...Harry could remember very little. Too many people, too many faces that he would never remember as he had been passed along too fast to make an impression and now he was alone and in a dark place that looked nothing like a room. So, Harry did the one thing he could do, he cried. The sound was loud, but it never seemed to make it past the immediate area of the stoop as no one immediately rushed to his aid...or so it appeared. However; a small creature, something that certainly did not belong in a muggle area, had noticed Harry's cries and quickly made its way to the wailing boy.

The being was a small humaniod, no more than three feet tall with long elfin ears, a cow like tail, knubby horns resting just behind its hairline along its brow, and covered from head to to toe in short, velvety fur. Its fur was primarily white with small, smattering blotches of brown here and there. Atop its head was a distinct shaggy mane of sorts, much like human head hair, with a single streak of brown. It crept towards the infant cautiously, its expressive eyes wary and on the look out for wizards or muggles. With muggles, all it had to fear was shocked shouts and perhaps a thrown object, but the real danger lay with the wizards that had just left. Had it unknowingly shown itself, they would have identified the creature as the troll it was and lashed out with all sorts of nasty wizard spells. Trolls, believe it or not, came in many varieties, but the most common were the brutish cave trolls that tended to wander too close to wizard villages. This troll, however; belong to a subspecies infamous for picking up abandon children. Many wild tales surrounded what the trolls did with the youngsters, but no wizard had ever gotten close enough to a troll village to find out.

Harry cooed softly when the troll reached out and gently stroked a tear stained cheek, the troll flashing a small smile when it gazed upon the babe's face. Not even the trolls knew why they took human babes in this day and age, there was no need now that centuries of generations had finally allowed the trolls to avoid wizards and raise their young in safety, but there was nothing like clinging to old legends. Supposedly, there was a great war between trolls and humans a long, long time ago, long before either side had their own way of recording things. In that war, many lives were lost, but this was true more so of the trolls. In an effort to heal the warring species, a single human stepped forth with a baby cradled in her arms. The infant had been made an orphan, but she offered the child to the trolls and made a secret deal with them. Humans could breed quickly, much faster than the trolls who relied on the magic of the land to help form their children, so there were always going to be forgotten or abandoned children in the world, children the trolls could claim as their own. The wild magic of the earth, combined with the trolls' spells, transfigured every infant into a troll. Ages went by and the war was forgotten, but trolls would still claim abandoned babes should they come across them.

Of course, there was no means to tell whether or not the ingrained effects of the war were indeed the cause of their baby snatching habit, but that mattered little to the troll that now had Harry in its arms. All it saw was a baby in need of love and attention and the muggles inside didn't seem like they were going to jump to the task. Harry cooed softly again, his tiny hand palming the slightly over-sized nose on the troll's beaming face.

**"Why hello little one," **It cooed softly in the trolls' native language, sounding oddly feminine despite its shapeless figure,** "my name is Llira, and I am taking you home with me. There you shall live until the time comes in which you may make the choice to stay or return to the world that left you."** The troll spoke honestly, as trolls usually did with children, and nuzzled Harry affectionately, trying to spark a bond between their magic.

Harry's small magic reserve grabbed on eagerly, linking them together as parent and child. The bond would never be as strong as a blood connection, but it would be enough to mimic the wards that Albus had tried to setup between Harry and the Dursleys. Harry cooed again, finally feeling content now that he was firmly connected to another magical being once more, and settled into a deep sleep as Llira made her way home...a place none would ever think to search when Albus discovered the blood wards had never activated.

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And that ends that, I'll probably come back and edit this before Chapter One if people want more. Add a little more, smooth things out , and such until it flows smoothly. And no Harry is not turning into a fuzzy troll ._. This is going to be a creature fic, but the creature is of my own creation and is certainly not a cuddly, fuzzy troll. The only reason why I say this is because I do not want disappointment in the ranks when people find he is anything but a cute little troll.


	2. The Sorcerer

**A heartfelt thanks to those who commented on the prologue and a huge apology for taking so long! I was having issues with deciding how to get things rolling, but I think I have the beginnings of a solid start. Read, enjoy, and comment at the end if you feel the need to. I will even answer some questions if they don't result in spoilers.**

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Llira tried to moved quickly, her trollian magic allowing her to perform something similar to disapparition. Unlike the wizard way of focusing on one single point, trolls used magic ley lines, specifically the ley lines that crossed through forests. By doing so, they didn't have to force their bodies to push through the many existing ley lines and generally removed the dangers of wizard apparition, but it did mean stopping more often and wasting time picking up the correct ley lines. It was a natural thing for a troll, but for Harry...well, it would be safe to say he spent the whole trip in discomfort. However; it took less than an hour before the troll was gazing fondly at her home. It was an ancient place, full of magic so strong and old that it gave the forest a life of its own. Nothing truly happened here unless the forest allowed it. Granted, there were some things the forest left alone, like predators hunting prey, mating rituals of animals, eating, and other general 'required for life' issues, but the forest always knew what was going on.

To the wizards, the forest was a very dreary place, gloomy and intimidating, but Llira knew that the forest was merely expressing how it felt. There wasn't much that made it happy, aside from the occasional unicorn birth, but the trolls didn't mind the gloomy atmosphere so long as the forest didn't kick them out of their home. Their village was actually underneath the ancient woodland, a massive place formed by towering trees that acted like pillars. Each one was easily six meters in diameter and stretched nearly thirty meters tall before their first level of branches formed 'roots.' What used to be the canopy had turned into the ground above the living, underground palace, twisting and coiling together to create a firm ceiling that not even a dragon could break through weight alone. Above that, the trees appeared to grow like any other with broad leafy canopies reaching for the warming sun and serene skies. It was truly a beautiful place, and at the center of it all, was the Heart, the first tree of the forest and certainly the most saturated with magic. It was gnarled and bent, far squatter and homely than the magnificent trees around it. It didn't even breach the false canopy, but even a muggle would have been able to feel the power radiating from every jagged leaf and trolls softly spoke of a time when the forest Heart would break free from the ground and become a god and walk among its wild children.

Gently shifting Harry a bit, Llira hurried along, not all too eager to meet the games keeper. The infant in her arms burbled sleepily, the jumping of ley lines exhausting him mentally and physically until he could no longer stand to be awake. The troll passed tree and bush silently, moving like a wraith over the underbrush until she came to the one entrance to where her village was located nearly three hours later. What was waiting there made her pause in confusion. A graceful figure that could only belong to Hipikon stood as a regal sentry before the veil that separated the hidden land from the rest of the forest. The unicorn was easily the oddest beast Llira had ever met. He looked nothing like the other unicorns in the forest, all of them looking like pure white horses with horns while Hipikon had the ears of a deer, the tail of a donkey, and the beard of a goat. He was also much larger than any of his kind and had light grey brindling on his rump and lower legs. Of course, he also spoke of the times when he was a young colt and humans would sacrifice bears and boar to sooth the wild and fierce unicorns' anger, so Llira thought it was safe to assume the unicorn was almost as old as the forest itself.

"**Hipikon,**" She greeted the magical beast with a neutral tone, "**what brings you topside? I thought you hated the idea of 'sharing the very air, no matter how far apart you were' with the other unicorns.**"

He snorted and tossed his head in disdain at the mention of those weak minded fools that had somehow evolved from his grand ancestry. Pawing at the ground irritably, Hipikon lowered his head, sniffing at the bundle in her arms.

"_I thought I could sense a wizard foal...Llira...are you really so foolish to bring him here? You KNOW what the forest will do should he stay for too long._"

She scoffed and turned her head away slightly."**An old wives tale crafted by the elders to stop us from bringing babes into the Haven.**"

"_No more a myth than you or me, foolish little troll. The forest is eager to have its children, it WANTS humans bring their children here. It WANTS Wildlings Llira! Are you really that blinded by the forest's will to pursue this folly?_" He gave a harsh noise, deeply annoyed with the troll.

"**What folly, you miserable, old bag of grass. The old war is what drives trolls to do this, not the forest. The forest has done nothing but provide for us and you wish to weave words of doubt and** **accusations.**" She hissed back, her brown eyed gaze looking for an opening past the unicorn.

"_If that is true, then your head is full of barren seeds. I was alive when this forest spanned hundreds of kilometers, I was here when the wizards built that castle looming in the distance, and I watched your ancestors find their home here in the forest and never once was there a war. You lie to yourself when you say the others have merely forgotten in their luxuries of fine wines and rich grass smoke. You have always been weak to the forest's pull Llira, it planted ideas in your head so that you would fetch it a child. You may think you are adopting that colt, but it is the Heart that is taking the boy!_" He leaned in as close has his horn would allow, his breathe coming in angry huffs as he got himself worked up over the troll's idiocy. _"You will NEVER be his mother, nor will any of those in your village be considered his family. The forest WILL claim him as it has always done and a Wildling will roam this ancient land once more. You KNOW this is true little troll. Take the boy to the castle if you care about him the way you think you do._" He snorted and stomped his right fore-hoof firmly, his dark eyes glaring at the furious troll before him.

"**That is enough out of you! That war was real! Trolls have always taken abandoned children and sheltered them in the forests. The practice just isn't in use anymore now that humans have forgotten the trolls. The forest won't take him, it won't even care that he is here! Now move aside Hipikon, the journey has been long and...Babe...needs proper rest after a small meal, should he take** **it.**" Her tone was practically formed by basilisk venom, but the bite had melted away into soft, tender words when she started talking about the child in her arms.

"_Babe?"_

"**Aye, Babe.**" She stated simply.

"_Why?_" He whickered softly as he stepped aside. There was no point in arguing with a troll, they were more stubborn than centaurs and more agile.

"**I am not his true mother, it is up to him to choose his name, though I would very much like to call him Igowhin, Troll for Spring.**" She murmured, her tone pleasant now that the old unicorn had stepped down.

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Hipikon did in fact stay around after his little spat with Llira and did see Babe's eyes. The unicorn had agreed they were as green as the new leaves in the Spring and had parted with an airily spoken goodbye that basically stated that Hipikon was washing his hooves of the troll's nonsense and that it would be all too soon if he never saw the boy's spring green eyes again. After all, he had better things to do, like bickering with the Heart and glaring at the other unicorns...but fate was none too kind. As it so happened, Llira managed to track down Hipikon frequently, leaving Babe with the grumpy beast just long enough to get a task done before hurrying back to fetch the growing infant. Hipikon grew accustomed to the life style quickly, even growing to love the boy as much as his last foal before the humans drove him away from his herd centuries ago.

Yes, as proud as he was, the unicorn wouldn't deny that he had grown attached to the boy with a peculiar scar upon his head. As the years passed, the ancient creature watched Babe grow from a helpless infant to an energetic lad of six whose gem like eyes never ceased in their search for anything and everything interesting. By now, Llira and Hipikon felt safe in letting the boy wander a bit so long as he came back within the next two minutes. Babe, to his credit, never failed to disappoint his adopted mother and his grumpy babysitter. So it was no surprised when guards were let down on a warm autumn day and Babe vanished during a game of hide and seek with a pair of bungerduns - mischievous creatures that looked like a cross between a crocodile and a frog that liked to mimic humans in order to steal food and shiny items. When the boy's English teachers - as Babe couldn't possibly learn how to speak Troll, so the mimics were perfect for the role after some persuasion from Hipikon - came rushing back, panicked and worried, the whole troll village scrambled to search of the missing six year old. In the end, for all of the cruel irony that fate could muster, it was the unicorn that found Babe drinking the nectar of the Heart. It flowed, golden and sweet past the child's lips as a Mozzer Bird dipped and swayed next to the child, presumably whispering the forest's encouragement to drink as much as he could.

With and echoing bellow, the unicorn bellowed and charged, screaming at Babe telepathically to stop what he was doing immediately. The raven haired youth stirred slightly from his dazed stupor , his delicate hands cupping a flower as pale as the moon, but one friendly nudge from the Mozzer and the flower once again canted against parted lips. The despairing unicorn thundered across the wide meadow that surrounded the Heart only to be halted by Jigstrunk, the last standing Wildling that the Heart had. The creature had long since lost it mind and soul, nothing more than a hollow husk the forest clung to.

It reared up with a chilling, raspy screech, waving its spindly, pointed forelegs high in the air; daring the unicorn to try and press his advance on the boy. Yet the danger didn't last, the empty shell crumbling into dust the moment Harry drank the last of the thick ambrosia from the translucent blossom. It was finished, the child he had looked after for five years was suddenly, irreversibly a Wildling.

The boy wavered for a breathless second, his startling green eyes drifting shut just as he collapsed on the soft, damp soil. Hipikon couldn't suppress the worried whinny the forced itself from his throat as he watched the child fall and was over in an instant, nosing the small form in concern. It didn't happen often, but there had been times when the forest was...earnest in its gift of its magic and overloaded the would-be Wildling, resulting in the untimely demise of the child. Yet, Hipikon knew Babe was a bearer of a vast magical core as all wizards were just waiting to be trained and used, and the magic of the forest was strong enough in the Haven to form an atmospheric I.V. of sorts. Living in such a haze of energy would have prevented the shrinking of Babe's core, unlike other wizardlings who relied on their own instinctive use of magic to avoid becoming squibs by their eleventh year. So why did he collapse? Any child with his strength and age should have walked away without so much as a headache...could it be the forest was trying to push the kid?

Babe shifted slightly, trying to move closer to Hipikon's warmth, the now withered flower clutched gently to his chest. The unicorn quickly and cautiously laid next to the child, pushing him closer with encouraging nudges from his roman muzzle as he regarded the flower bitterly. The Heart never bloomed unless it wanted to bestow the gift of its magic upon a creature, the nectar, pooling within the deep cup the petals formed, was essentially nothing more than the Heart's blood, and with it, the living magic formed blood pacts stronger than even a related mother and child could muster. It was cruel thing to do in Hipikon's opinion. Babe would never truly love another soul unless it was bound to the Heart as well...or if the Heart released the boy for whatever reason. Of course, he could attempt to remove the Heart, but Hipikon knew there was nothing that could oust such ancient and concentrated magic and...he would die if he did. As a mythical creature, drinking the nectar of the Heart merely enhanced the qualities the creature already had, sometimes to the point of death if it were something that used its power to kill other creatures. But in the grumpy unicorn's case, it allowed him outlive, well, everything and live off of the forest magic alone. Sighing, the old stallion gently groomed the wild raven locks. He was still warm, a good sign that he wasn't dead as it didn't seem like Babe was cooling off.

"_I swear to the old gods, if you damaged him anymore than it appears, I will destroy you, you rotted old weed._" He snorted harshly as if to prove his point as his dark gaze fixed on the gnarled and knotted bark of the ancient tree.

An impossible wind shook only the leaves of the tree before the pair, the dry whispering noise sounding suspiciously like laughter. "**_You really believe I would purposely harm the first child to walk my forest for over a year in nearly three centuries? Silly old Hipip, Harry was as Wild as a dragon when he came, I merely coaxed his inner seed to sprout. He is simply sleepy after the game of tag the Mozzer treated him to._**"

The unicorn jerked his head back at the pet name, but was soon overcome by curiosity.

"_Harry? Wild? Explain._"

"**_There will always be children in the world born Wild; wishing to fly high in the skies forever, swim in the vasts oceans chasing dolphins and currents, or roaming the beautiful lands in simple freedom. But their families, their societies...their Wild seed crushed and suffocated until their instincts are mere dreams. As for Harry...well, that was his name until that selfish troll found him. Harry Potter, quite the big deal in the world of the wizards. He would have been stuck with horrible, magic hating muggles and made weak. Here he will be Rhonir, wild and free, but humble and gentle. Here he will have his home and my love. Here...he will be_**_ **happy.**_" The wind gusted before dying, the roots seeming to shift, as though settling down to give a lecture in case the unicorn protested.

"_And what of Hogwarts? You share ground with another ancient gathering of magic. It may not be as old as you, but with as many young minds that have left bits of their magic behind, it could easily enforce its will and call Harry into its hallowed halls._"

"**_He will not be an issue, we have already discussed what Rhonir is to do when his of age. I will send him to that prat of a castle to learn their silly wizard arts and he will return to where he belongs the moment the school year is over._**"

"_What is he to do when he makes friends? Forms a family of his own kind? You may have stripped him of his ability to truly love, but that does not mean he will ignore the bonds he creates with others! In all of the centuries I have know you, you have yet to change your selfish ways Eowyin, Heart of the Forest. He is a sensitive soul! He WILL bond, he WILL try to love and it will destroy him every time he has to leave without an explanation. Gods! He can't even stand to sneak cakes from Llira without feeling guilty._" Hipikon heaved a heavy sigh and nosed Rhonir's neck and shoulder junction. "_Had he been born as any other creature, it would have most assuredly been a unicorn. I don't think I have met a purer soul._"

The forest was silent for a moment, startled by the use of the name muggles had given it in the days when the humans danced about its trunk and left offerings when the seasons changed.

"**_I know this Hipikon, no Wildling can devote all of their being to the forest...I may make them love only the forest, but I cannot change their nature completely. Whatever happens, I can only hope Rhonir will return to me as soon as he is able...I won't even refuse him if hes chooses to leave the grounds entirely. But can safely say he is not as pure as unicorn, not even with you as the comparison, old friend. He was tainted by the dark wizard, his reluctance to lie and steal is merely the result of trust, even if a six-year-old cannot understand something so complex. Give him a reason to strike and he will, just ask the_**_ **bungerduns.**_"

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After the incident, it was discovered that Harry hadn't come away completely unchanged. His magic had fought against the Heart to an extent, proving the forest's words to be true when it spoke of Rhonir being as wild as those foul winged lizards - only naturally wild magic could fight against the living energy of the forest after all. It left the boy as an animagus of sorts, a Wildling, but not one trapped in a bestial body for as long as his altered lifespan would allow. Instead, the child was stuck with a pair of lion ears in the place of his old ones and scaly tail tipped a in tuft of bone needle spines. Llira, the bungerduns, and the other trolls all tip-toed around the boy, uncertain if the change in species had altered the child's mild disposition any. But Hipikon treated Harry the same as always, extra walks excluded, and it seemed as though Rhonir liked him all the more for it. Llira was naturally a mess, but her stubborn nature refused to concede and admit that Hipikon's spot on warning had been true, even when she laid on her deathbed within her hill-house nearly a year later after the Heart had succeeded. It had been an illness that creature dependent on places like the Haven sometimes suffered. At some point, their bodies refused the magic infused in everything and turned things that were once nutritious into a toxic poison.

Rhonir spent the next year in silent mourning and spoke only to Hipikon and the sympathetic bungerduns. The year after, he celebrated his first change into a beast, ignoring his lessons with the tricksters to go on heart-pounding runs with Hipikon. In the next two years, Hipikon watched Rhonir bloom into a gentle creature, soft spoken and humble, though fierce and thunderous when wronged or provoked. And then, it happened.

It was a day that held no significance to anyone as it was the middle of the summer. The Haven was a warm as it was above ground, the Heart acting much like the castle ceiling in providing a false sky...though the Heart made it a little more potent to warm the entire Haven to the same degree as it was above ground. Naturally, Rhonir was relaxing by the spring with the bungerduns, going over how to write neatly - he prided himself for his pleasant scrawl since the bungerduns' stubby claws made it difficult to write neatly - when he saw the oddest thing. An owl, an actual owl flying about the thick tree pillars with a piece of paper clutched in its beak. Hipikon had told him about owls and how they never came to the Haven, it was below ground after all, but that didn't seem to matter to this owl as it swooped and glided; its large, yellow eyes searching for something. The poor child's confusion only grew when the owl landed before him upon a small boulder, staring into emerald eyes expectantly when it stuck its neck out to offer the letter. When Rhonir didn't react, the eagle owl dropped its letter and flew away with an annoyed clack of its beak.

"_Oi, Oi! What does it say Rho-babe?_" Gipis asked excitedly, flashing a toothy grin while her brother pawed at his arm and offered an explanation of sorts.

_"Yeah, yeah, looks like a letter Rhonir! Open it, open it!_" He chattered eagerly.

Harry looked the letter over in confusion. The bungerduns had mentioned letters before, saying that they were messages often written on parchment, often folded up, and often sealed in another piece of paper that had been folded up to form a pocket. Gently wriggling a nail under the red wax seal, Rhonir's tail twitched out of nervousness and curiosity as he pulled the heavy, yellow parchment from the letter. Much to the bungerduns' disappointment, Rhonir read the letter silently, his bow furrowing in confusion as he read the short invitation over and over.

"It is an invitation...to Hogwarts? Didn't Hipikon say something about Hogwarts once?" Shaking off any of the tittered replies of 'I don't know, did he, did he,' Rhonir picked the envelope up and tilted his head to the side in befuddlement when he read the name. It seemed familiar... "I need to find Hipikon, same time tomorrow?"

The squat creatures nodded enthusiastically and immediately scampered off. Had he thought about their departure, Rhonir would have been suspicious that they were purposely not telling him something, but he was more focused on finding the grumpy unicorn rather than entertaining hypotheses. It took no time at all before he found the stallion resting in a patch of actual sunlight where some roots had given away in the ceiling to let natural light in.

"Hipikon!" He called as he ran over, letter clutched in hand. "An owl came and gave me this, you said owls were used as messengers right? Do they normally get things wrong?"

Hipikon was silent for a long while, his dark gaze locked on the letter. He didn't think the letter would come this soon in the year...but then again, that would have meant he had been expecting the letter that year rather than the next.

"_No, not unless the wizards sabotaged them in some way...that name on the front is yours...from when you belonged to a wizard and a witch. That letter was meant for you and you will be going._"

Rhonir staggered back in surprise, his suddenly weak legs unable to support his back peddling when the unicorn lurched to his hooves and gave the boy the sternest glare a unicorn could hope to muster. The eleven-year-old shook his head furiously in an attempt to deny what was happening. He wasn't a wizard, the bungerduns said so. They said that wizards didn't have lion ears and lizard tails, they didn't live with trolls and unicorns and learn from tricksters, they weren't CREATURES like he was. Hitting the ground heavily, Rhonir threw the letter away furiously as though it would turn Hipikon's words into the first lie he had ever told.

"_Llira, in her own foolish way, was going to tell you this when you were older and give you the choice to stay in the forest or join the Wizarding World, but that was before the Heart claimed you. You were born a wizard, given the name of Harry James Potter by your real mother and father, and would have grown up with them if they hadn't been killed by a mad wizard. It was then when you were left to the doorstep of a muggle family and it was then when Llira found you and took you in as her own. When the forest claimed you, she didn't think you would need to know._"The stallion nickered softly, trying to calm the boy when he saw tears staining the boy's woven loin cloth where they fell.

"Why would she do that? She never kept secrets from me, not one." He whispered brokenly, his eyes cast to the ground

"_It was out of a selfish love Rhonir, she believed that Howarts would never send for you when you became a creature, and didn't want to reveal the truth in the fear that you would react badly and run from her._" Hipikon nudged Rhonir's shoulder and puffed air into the raven black hair, stirring it further into a wild mess.

"Why wouldn't the school want me?" the child asked suddenly after a period of silence.

"_Because, as all human do, they see themselves as higher beings than every creature on earth. Muggles thinks they are the only ones with intelligence while wizards and witches lord the ability to control and use their magic in many ways over magical creatures. She believed that they would not send for you now that you are considered as a 'lesser being' in the eyes of your old kind. However; all Wildlings that were wizards from birth could manipulate magic, they just didn't have the training to do so. You will WHEN you go. Now come, there will be no sending of an owl back._"

"Why?"

"_We will be walking there, that's why._"

* * *

Roughly ten years had passed since Harry had gone missing from his Aunt's and Uncle's stoop, and those were ten years filled with worry and a dim hope that burdened Albus' weary mind. It took exactly ten days to realize his blood wards had failed to active, ten days of time for the evidence of his captor to fade, ten days that Albus Dumbledore could have used to observe Harry settling into his new home, but they were ten days wasted on giddy planning for Harry's arrival at Hogwarts come the boy's eleventh year. He had wanted it to be a grand affair, welcoming Harry back into a magic rich life after his time with his muggle family with a grand banquet, gifts, and of course, as many sweets as an eleven year old boy could hope to ever see in one place. But now his fantasy of grandfatherly spoiling was nothing more than a sweet dream to tease his poor old heart.

Severus Snape had accused him several times of being a manipulative old lion by placing Harry with his muggle relatives - not that Snape cared for Harry, he was James' son after all - and that he should listen when he says that Petunia would not give the boy a happy childhood like Albus wanted him to have. But then again, Severus also thought that Albus was trying to keep the 'Chosen One' alive to carry out the prophesy should the Dark Lord survive the strange events that happened on that historic night. That was not the case of course, he would have gladly locked Harry and any other child born around the predicted date away in a magical fortress somewhere in the hopes that Tom would never find them.

Ah...Tom, his greatest mistake and one of his most painful regrets. He should have seen how the boy had been deteriorating back when Tom was young, but something his heart told him that Tom was beyond saving, his soul already too dark from his sad past to heal and that one day...one day he would slip up in his endeavor to grow stronger. It was that little corner of his heart that cost too many people their lives, that upended the Wizarding World into a time of unbridled fear and darkness. Albus clutched at the fabric over his heart gently, his head hanging heavily as he contemplated his past decisions. It was foolish to just leave a baby on the front stoop, unprotected save for a warming charm that would fade in twelve hours. Fawkes cooed gently, trying to cheer his long time friend out his dark mood. Dumbledore chuckled softly and ran his thin, weathered fingers over the phoenix's smooth feathers.

"Where do you think he is now Fawkes old boy? Do you think he is happy and safe? Minerva seems to think I left Harry to die..." The elderly wizard trailed off, his blue eyes devoid of the mischievous glint and cheery sparkle. "Maybe I did." He sighed and rose from his chair, limbs heavy with guilt, worry, and too many heart twisting memories for a pensieve to hold. He was the most powerful wizard of his time, he was feared by many, and held sway in just about every organization in the Wizarding World, but in the end he was only a man. A tired, old man with a mortal life that was, if the ache in his body meant anything, nearing its end.

The mythical bird trilled, cooed, and sang to an extent, trying to ease the headmaster's mind with natural music, but it seemed to fall on deft ears when Albus looked forlornly into the fire, muttering 'where are you Harry' to the dancing flames.

However, his morose mood was quickly batted away by surprise when Minerva burst through the door to his office, looking happily ragged and flustered.

"Minerva? Whatever is the matter? This is not like you."

"Stow it with the pleasantries Albus! We found him!" She exclaimed, almost ready to pace in her jubilant excitement.

"Found who Minny?" Albus loved surprises, but this simply too odd and puzzling to enjoy.

"Harry, Harry Potter! We found him, or Rubeus did, but that part doesn't matter!" Before she could say anymore, Dumbledore was out of his seat and halfway to the stair case when he urged her to take him to the boy. For the first time in ten years, the old wizard felt like indulging in lemon drop, licorice snaps and whatever other pleasant candies he could get his hands on.

* * *

The trek from the Headmaster's office to the hospital wing never seemed longer to the pair of transfiguration experts, weaving through the hallowed halls as swiftly as they could move. They only slowed when Albus pulled out his wand to spell the heavy doors open with eager anticipation. Harry was back, out of the blue, and without triggering any of Hogwarts alarms. It was puzzle for certain, but the elderly wizard dismissed the curiosities in favor of practically flying over to the black-haired child upon the bed. Sharp green eyes jumped from face to face, but mainly focused on Hagrid who was blubbering into his beard while Poppy ran test after test on the boy to check his health on all levels. Eventually, the child caught Albus' gaze and held him there.

"Are you the headmaster?" Everyone jumped when Harry spoke, his voice so low that it was almost a whisper.

"Why yes I am Harry, but how did you know?" Minerva shot him a venomous glare, not liking the idea of Albus questioning him so soon.

"Hipikon told me, sir. He said I would have to listen to the headmaster and the professors while I am here." Harry fiddled with the hospital gown that the brisk woman had forced onto him the moment Hagrid had set him down and muttered about the decency of a cave man when she sent the boy's loin cloth to the rubbish bin.

"Hipikon?" This time it was Hagrid that spoke up, his voice still wavering from his previous tears of relief. The half-giant had seen Harry come stumbling out of the forest, a unicorn shoving the boy with what Hagrid would assume were 'gentle' side long body checks, but he hadn't seen anything else with the boy.

"My guardian." He said nothing more as he held out the letter the owl had given him not six hours ago, offering the crinkled parchment to the eldest wizard present. "I formally accept."

After that, they got nothing more out of the boy, even when they asked about his peculiar anatomical additions or why his blood work came back as 'non-human.' They also tried to get him to open up about where he had been staying during his mysterious absence, or talk about anything in general. Even when they introduced him to all sorts of sweets - which he very clearly enjoyed - Harry remained as tightly locked as a cursed chest...that is, until Severus Snape made his appearance.

The man had been happily brewing the replacement potions Poppy needed for the first half of the summer, only leaving his brewing lab when his body absolutely demanded food, drink, sleep, or a trip to the loo. But now he was left without a task to complete and wasn't too endeared to the idea of prepping the upcoming year's lesson plans, so the reclusive man had decided to leave the comfort of his dungeons for a meal with the other professors. He may have been unfriendly to most, but that didn't mean he hated his fellow professors...they were actually bearable when there weren't hundreds of students chattering like monkeys just twenty feet away. He slipped passed the door with the usual grand flare of his robes - he didn't do it on purpose, it was just the combination of his stride and the material of the fabric that caused the dramatic billowing - and nearly tripped over his own feet.

Fortunately, the others failed to witness his graceless stumble, all of them busy trying to coax a conversation out of the boy seated in his chair or tucking in their own plate. The most avid of them were McGonagall and Dumbledore who were both constantly offering bits of conversation or asking his opinion on something. Snape couldn't care less and was more concerned as to why there was a child present almost a full month and a half before school was to start. Stalking silently, the potions master loomed over the high-backed that he normally sat in, peering down at the child as he ignored McGonalgall's scathing glare.

"Pardon me Albus, but may I ask as to _why_ there is a child present at Hogwarts in the middle of the summer?" He drawled in his usual fashion, his tone perched on a fine line of belittling with the unspoken 'making exceptions again?' and disinterest even though the situation was rather curious.

"Ah Severus, I was wondering when you would surface. It seems as though that you have missed all of the excitement." Albus chuckled softly as he leaned back in his chair.

"That doesn't answer my question Headmaster...why is he here? I believe it was..." Snape trailed off, the snarky reference to Tom Riddle dying on his tongue when he noticed something odd.

A pale hand darted about, long dexterous fingers latching cruelly onto the oddity that caught his attention. The child yelp and twisted, instantly gripping the man's wrist as he tried to ease the pain of the pinched ear. Severus sneered and let go the moment he saw the child's face, trying to mask a painful memory with a mocking jibe.

"I wasn't aware you were letting Hagrid's pets inside the castle without a leash now Albus, even if it is Harry Potter." Severus all but spat the boy's last name, inwardly flinching when the boy turned his striking _Avada Kedavre _green gaze on the potions master. Past the tears that had welled up from the hurt of an abused ear, there was silent judgement, anger, and...interest?

"Pet! Severus, you foul tempered snake, Harry is no pet! By Merlin's beard, what would make you say such a horrid thing?" This time it was Professor Sprout who delivered a withering glare.

"What else would a creature be if it is not wild and running amok in some forest somewhere? Surely, you do not think this boy is still human with those...bestial additions and the stench of the forest on him." Severus replied with a sneer and a haughty sniff. Many had joked at the man's expense that it was his large nose that allowed him his keen smell, but Severus knew it was from years of crafting potions that had sharped that particular sense.

Albus looked at him sharply. "A forest Severus? Are you certain?" It wasn't something the old wizard wanted to think about, certainly not when the forest in question was the Forbidden Forest. Still, Harry had emerged from the dangerous and dark woods as a creature, so maybe it was possible the infant he had left on a muggle stoop had managed to survive in such a place...but that begged the questions of how he got there, how he managed to survive, an how did the boy become a creature.

"Yes, Albus, I am." Snape replied irritably. "I am out there often enough to collect herbs, I would know what the Forbidden Forest smells like. Besides, where else would the brat come in contact with living magic?" It was then Severus pulled a rather sour expression when Dumbledore gave him a rare look of puzzlement. "Living magic Albus, the very magic that runs this castle and the fuels the Forbidden forest, surely you have heard of this. All research on the conscious magic has resulted in inconclusive results. Most say it is a composite of residual magic that swells and takes on a life of its own, while a few are adamant that living magic is as ancient as the world itself and quite possibly the reason anything in on this planet at all. Next to that, it is hypothesized that by receiving a concentrate dose of this magic will result in dramatic mutations in humans and non-magic beasts. The results are known as Wildlings as they have been for centuries."

The potions master scowled and made to leave once the brief explanation was offered when Harry quickly rose from his seat and clutched the hem of the man's robes with one hand, causing Severus to whirl about to rip it free. He glared down at the boy with cold, coal black eyes blazing with an unspoken challenge and unfounded disdain.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" Snape spat out each word as if they were poison to be purged from his thin lips.

Harry kept his gaze downcast, but didn't move. To everyone's surprise, the Boy-Who-Lived surged forward to wrap his arms about Snape's waist, burying his face into the stiff fabric that covered most of the tall man's figure. Severus went ridged, his swallow skin fighting between an angry flush or draining until he was truly of an unhealthy pale shade out of shock.

"Potter! Let go." He hissed, an undecipherable emotion surging thickly in the man's voice.

"Thank you..." Was all he said before pulling away and darting up and over the table to Hagrid who had just come in for a snack and to give his morning report.

It was safe to say that Severus intended to spend the rest of the week holed up in his dungeons, fuming over the boy's actions and plotting many ways to retaliate. Harry on the other hand was quiet, listening to what the professors had to say and following Hagrid around when the others didn't have the time to fill him in about the Wizarding World. He didn't trust a single one of them...well, accept for McGonagall and Hagrid, he liked them. Professor McGonagall - who he learned was the Head of the Gryffindor House - was stern and fair once she got over her original joy of finding out that Harry was alive and well. She reminded him of his mother in many ways, but Hagrid was easily his favorite with his earnest and jolly nature. The towering man truly cared for Harry and was always stopping by or inviting Harry to his hut and asking him about his day even if Harry rarely responded.

And soley on the opposite end of things, there was Professor Snape...the only one to treat him with open hostility... or was it hostility? All of the expressions, posturing, tones, and words were there, but their was something hidden in the man's eyes that man him think differently. But it was refreshing in a way - which what caused Harry to hug the man and thank him - however; the man had definitely rubbed him the wrong way with pinching his lion ears. Yet rather than stew over a blossoming grudge match, Potter concerned himself with more important things like trying every dessert available, listening to Hagrid talk about dragons, and figuring out why his eyesight was steadily growing worse. It was the oddest thing really, he had noticed that things were getting a little out of focus by the end of the first week he had been present at Hogwarts and everything was certainly fuzzy by the time the second week came to an end. It hadn't been enough to impede his ability to learn about all the things the professors felt like teaching him, such as Madam Hooch's insistence that he learn all about Quidditch - he was saved the hazard of flying and the show and tell of the balls when Professor McGonagall stepped in with something about him learning it in the school year - and Professor Flitwick's eagerness to show him various charms that were altogether harmless and amusing. But lately, he was having trouble discerning things from a distance and frankly, it gave him a bloody headache that rivaled the time one of the bungerduns had fallen on his head.

Sighing, Harry flattened out on the comfortable bed that came along with the room Dumbledore had temporarily assigned to the boy and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Today marked the third week he had been at Hogwarts, the fourth day since he had seen Professor Snape - not that he was thinking about him and his dangerous ear twisting ways - and possibly the day the his vision had finally stopped dwindling into blindness. He couldn't say that it was terrible as he could still make out shapes and figures, but details were nonexistent if he wasn't within three feet of whatever he was focused on. He knew what was happening, but didn't going blind usually take time, as in years, without an illness or accident to cause it? As far as Harry knew, he wasn't straining his eyesight and it couldn't have been a disease, so what could have caused this? Shaking his head, he slipped out of bed - not bothering with the footwear Professor McGonagall had gotten him - and out into the stone halls of the castle. The guest room he was staying was on the ground floor of the ancient building, enabling him to easily access the banquet hall, the hospital wing, and the doors to the school grounds so that he could go visit Hagrid or Hipikon if the unicorn had decided to pay a secret visit. But on days like this when the professors and the headmaster were apparently busy, Harry liked to 'wander' around the castle.

Truth be told, it wasn't really wandering, more like following directions. Harry knew the moment he had stepped foot on the castle grounds that Hogwarts was like his home, or the Forbidden Forest as the professors called it, though it was...weaker in a sense. Its magic was almost as rich as it was in the Haven, but scattered like it was focusing on too many things at one time which resulted in a much weaker 'pull' for Harry to follow. Then again, the Heart didn't like 'pulling' him unless it really wanted him to see something, unlike Hogwarts who acted like a child in trying to show Harry everything it had to offer the moment the professors left him alone. And right now, it trying to pull him into the lower levels of the castle...which honestly made sense. He had already been guided to the areas that belonged to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, so why not throw in Slytherin to complete the set? Of course, he hadn't been allowed to explore past the portraits that protected each house, so Harry wasn't expecting much by the time he had reached a dead end with a portrait depicting two snakes basking on a stone in the early morning sun. He had passed another portrait of a rather severe looking man who had shot him a menacing glare before shouting that the boy had better turn around if he knew what was good for him, but the Wildling promptly ignored the painting and curled his tail slightly in order to shake the boy tuft freely to produce a dry, raspy rattle as if to say 'bite me.'

The snakes, once sleeping, startled into consciousness, Harry's inspecting gaze stirring them uncomfortably. One hissed to the other, posing a question to its painted friend.

"_A wizardling...it is too early for wizardlings, what do you think this one is doing here?_" The darker of the two snakes emitted what could only be described as an exasperated hiss and prodded the lighter with its tail.

"_You would know if you paid attention to the other portraits. It is the Potter child, found by the half-giant and revealed to be a creature. Hogwarts wanted him to attend and so here he is, far earlier than the other wizardlings._"

The boy cocked his head to the side, an ear twitching when his untamed mane tickled the sensitive extremity. They were acting as though he couldn't hear them, which wasn't uncommon from what he had experienced with the other portraits, but at least they looked at him. These two were off in their own little world. Harry stiffened in surprise when words suddenly formed on the rock the snakes had previously covered and leaned in close to read them.

_Password?_

Harry shook his head when he was met by the same question all of the other portraits guarding a room asked him.

"I don't know the password, sorry."

The words faded, only to be replaced by another question.

_Then why are you here?_

"The castle led me here, I haven't a clue as to why though." Harry scratched at an ear bashfully, his tail showing his embarrassment as it curl between his legs slightly. The snakes, rather than looking somewhat annoyed like the Fat Lady had, appeared to be intrigued.

"_You don't think..._"

"_Yes I do think..._"

"_A Wildling._" The hissed in unison, making Harry's brow twitch in annoyance.

"_How do you know about that? Hipikon said Wildlings were too old for humans to remember...then again, Professor Snape seemed to know._" At this, the snakes froze up entirely before slowly turning to look at the boy full on.

"_You can understand us? Without needing to read the__ stone?_"

Harry nodded, confused as to why they could ask. Couldn't everyone understand snakes? Hipikon and the bungerduns seemed able to, though he had yet to see a troll talk to one. The stunned reptiles looked to each other and then back at Harry.

"_Peculiar...very peculiar..._" The lighter snake hissed thoughtfully, but before the child could voice his question, the darker of the two beat him to it.

"_Enter child, this delight earns you free passage just this once._" The paler reptile hissed in protest, but Harry was too excited by the prospect of a small adventure to listen to the very valid reasons the snake had as to why Harry shouldn't be let inside.

The Wildling opened and darted through the revealed door before the portrait managed to to change its mind and swing shut. Darkness was what met his diminished vision first, but darkness melted away in the face of a warming light and the scent of a tame fire burning. Was this the commons McGonagall had told him about? She had said that all of the houses had them, each decorated to support that house's colors, but this room seemed to lack any kind of color. Squinting in the hopes that might hep his poor vision focus a little, Potter took in the sparsely furnished common room from his spot that was roughly the center of the room. It certainly wasn't what Harry thought it would be, and that made him curious. Was he really in the commons of the Slytherin House, or was this a private room for a special student? Either way he wasn't about to go poking about. With nothing left to entertain him, he turned around and promptly fell on his arse after slamming into a solid wall of something black and coarse. Of course, the fact that the wall had been warm and as yielded slightly was not was Harry had focused on, rather it was the dim 'there wasn't a wall there before' thought that held his attention. Rubbing his lower back slightly to ease the jarring pain of his tail snapping up and jamming the joint, Harry froze when he caught the slightly blurry shape of a pair of black shoes. Looking up slowly, Harry found himself staring at the blurry face of a baffled potions master.

* * *

**And I am ending this chapter here. Well, I though I could manage to fit the entire first book into one chapter...and I probably could, but not even I would want to read all of that in one go, so why should I force it on my readers? I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and remember to review, comment, or critique as desired. I'll try to live up to my promise next time of posting faster with feedback.**


	3. MEMO

**!Attention!**

**!ATTENTION!**

**THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER**

**This Is A Memo**

**I am putting this story on hold for a tiny while. I feel that the idea is good, but it needs tinkered with since what I have is weak, meaning the first chapter will be re-posted once I am done with it. HOWEVER! I will also post a second chapter to make up for my fumbling with this story...maybe even a third.**

**But to make it clear...**

**!I AM NOT ABANDONING THIS!**

**I just had a good idea and jumped the gun is all (^_^;)**

**sorry**

**(T^T)**


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